


Sunshine and the Calm Sea

by starrylitme



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Budding Love, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fishing, Language Barrier, Little Mermaid Elements, M/M, People Watching, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2018-09-03 10:12:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8708500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrylitme/pseuds/starrylitme
Summary: He wasn’t lonely, not really.
(In which Komaeda meets, saves, and befriends the human he’s already fond of.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Also written for the KomaHina Exchange, but since it's a mermaid AU it has nothing to do with those other fics at like, all, and is actually much cuter and less sad. Probably. Don't actually take my word on that.
> 
> This one... I had a lot of different ideas for and this is what I went with because I don't actually know why.
> 
> It kind of reminds me of the vampire AU actually, even though it's...pretty dissimilar to that. Maybe that's because of the length?? Eh, you tell me.
> 
> Please enjoy~~

Ever since his parents died, his most significant interactions have been with people he only watched from afar. Considering the misfortune that seemed to follow him around, it had always been for the best that he remain on his own. He wasn’t lonely, not really, because he really did feel content just watching others interact and smile at one another, not focusing on anything else.

He was fine.

Besides, humans were such fascinating creatures when left to their own devices.

They’d chatter in their strange language, and they had their own quirks and eccentricities. Sometimes, they congregated, often with partners or possible family, but they spent a lot of time alone, too.

He liked watching the families the most. Children were easiest to understand, but also surprisingly resourceful in communicating their desires without the need for words. Watching them was a learning experience. He appreciated that—as much as the sight of those children being carried around by their parents made his heart ache so very strangely. He didn’t know what to do about that.

But, there was one particular human he was quite fond of.

He was his own age. His head looked like an urchin. He spent a lot of time just contemplatively watching the sea with wistfulness and uncertainty. This human’s name, he was sure, was Hajime. Hajime was probably the first human he ever saw curled up, hands pressed hard to their eyes, and trembling. When children did that, they wanted to be held or consoled, but Hajime was utterly alone so no one ever came by. It was strange. Hajime was very strange.

He liked him. He really liked Hajime.

But, people tended to get hurt when he approached them, and he didn’t want Hajime hurt, so he just watched Hajime from afar like he did with all the other humans.

But, he was content watching. He wasn’t lonely, not really, because it did feel like there was a genuine connection between him and Hajime. It made the days so much easier and exciting.

So he didn’t mind that this was how things were to be. It was better this way, anyway.

* * *

But, he’s always had moments of extreme carelessness.

He’d known Hajime’s father was a fisherman. Said father was also a stern figure and one that Hajime always followed so docilely. This was to be the case for their departure to the sea, on a rickety fishing boat that he thinks Hajime’s family owned for generations.

He follows them, of course, though he really shouldn’t have. Boats are dangerous, he’s been told, and there’s no telling how humans react upon seeing them. Humans were terrified of them—and sometimes, terrified creatures can lash out terribly.

He hadn’t really thought about any of that, and maybe, just maybe, he was a little too close to the boat trying to take in the way Hajime interacted with his father. How Hajime would follow every seeming order with a sharp nod. How Hajime’s hands would shake—how  _nervous_  Hajime was...

He could’ve been spotted so easily. It was only by sheer luck that he ducked under the water quick enough to avoid any stray glances.

His luck ran out when he ended up tangled in Hajime’s net.

And how he thrashed! How he struggled! How he fought against Hajime’s pulling and, and—the second he was pulled out of water, he’s sure his heart dropped upon realizing he  _wasn’t_  getting out of this.

The thud his body made against the boards was harsh and painful. He wouldn’t have minded too much if not for the implications.

He couldn’t move his tail at all. The net was wrapped too tightly around it. Even if he got off the boat, he wouldn’t be able to remove the net.

It was a terrifying as it was thrilling. And—

He wanted it  _off_.

He wanted it  ** _off_**!

_If there’s any way to convey that, it’d have to be—_

He pressed his hands to his eyes, and like a human child, he  _cried_. He cried hard and loud, desperately and urgently. Through the translucent webs of his fingers, he nervously watched the reaction the humans gave.

Hajime was in complete shock. His father was afraid.

There was no telling how the father would react. His heart couldn’t stop pounding.

The father muttered something he didn’t understand at all, but it didn’t sound pleasant.

“Hajime,” the father then said, slowly and lowly, “We need to get him out.”

Hajime looked confused. “Dad, what...?”

“We could be cursed by his parents if we don’t move  ** _NOW_**.”

He didn’t understand any of that except Hajime’s name—but all the same, the two of them worked on untangling his tail. Hajime was a bit rough to the point it hurt, but his father was as careful as he was tense. They seemed to be struggling. The longer time dragged on, the most restless they got.

He was sniffling, because he wasn’t sure what else to do besides stay still to make the job easier.

“Hey.”

He perks up, recognizing Hajime’s voice.

“It—it’s gonna be fine, yeah? We’re gonna get you out and you’ll be free and you’ll be fine. Please, please don’t cry anymore...”

Slowly, he uncovered his eyes, meeting Hajime’s widening stare. Hinata’s jaw seemed to hang, mouth falling open like a gaping fish. Hajime kept staring and staring, unresponsive to even his father calling his name.

He tilted his head to the side in confusion, and Hajime kept on staring, motionlessly gripping the net.

So, he  _wailed_.

Hajime flinched, and his father shouted, “ ** _HAJIME_**!!”

“R- _Right_! Right, sorry!!”

Hajime resumed ripping the net apart, red-faced and tense. Finally, finally, Hajime’s father threw the net off of his tail. Hajime met his stare briefly, almost apologetically, and tossed the rest of the net off to the side.

“Quick,” Hajime’s father said in a hard tone. “Get him off the boat.”

Hajime nodded frantically, and made his way behind him.

“E-Easy, easy, please just take it easy,” Hajime murmured, scooping his hands under his frail arms from behind. His tail swished from side to side as he was pulled upwards, but he stilled it once he noticed the father standing by. Immediately, Hajime’s father grabbed his tail and lifted it as well, and in response to that, he made a distinctly unhuman sound of surprise.

But, he was compliant. He didn’t squirm as the two humans carried him towards the boat’s edge. Hajime paused at the same time his father did. He couldn’t see Hajime’s face when his father gave him a sharp look, but he could hear a shaky exhale of breath as Hajime gently lifted his upper half higher. Hajime’s father was just as careful in maneuvering him so that he could get over the boat’s railing.

He didn’t wait too long to take that chance to pull himself forward and dive headfirst back into the water.

The injuries sustained from struggling against the net stung a bit, but really, there was nothing to be except  _relieved_. Still, he found himself looking back upwards towards the underside of the water’s shimmering surface. He wondered about Hajime and his father.

So, promising himself it’d be brief, he swam back up, and poked his head through the water’s surface. He kept himself largely submerged, with his lips parted underwater, taking in small, soft breaths.

“...He didn’t look dangerous...”

Oh, that was Hajime talking. Hajime’s father, clicking his tongue, had Hajime quietening almost immediately and meekly.

“That’s just because he was young, Hajime,” the father replied. “But merfolk are not to be treated lightly nonetheless. You’ve heard stories, haven’t you?”

“T-Those aren’t just superstitions...?”

Whatever Hajime said, that look his father gave him in response to whatever it was looked dark and scary. Hajime shrank back, bowing and stammering out what were undoubtedly apologies. His father, gruffly sighing, just went on.

“Merfolk are undoubtedly mystical creatures. Whether they are good or bad omens can vary but regardless, to upset one is welcoming ill intent.” His low tone seemed to get even lower and colder. “When a single merfolk can crash an entire boat, you wouldn’t want to bring yourself the ire of several. So it’s best to placate them immediately if you ever trouble one by accident, and to keep your distance from them altogether. Do you understand, Hajime?”

Hajime nods. “Yes, dad.”

He blinks up at them. This time, Hajime’s avoidant gaze happens upon him.

_...Oh..._

He’s not sure what to do here, but...

He raises himself just a bit to smile back, waving like how he’s seen humans do.

But, rather than wave back, Hajime flinches.

_Ah, I really can’t do anything right..._

He ducks back into the water before Hajime’s father had the chance to turn his way, too.

* * *

He still follows Hajime, but he’s much more careful than before. It’s a bit difficult because Hajime’s father keeps a much sharper eye out, but he manages to go unseen nonetheless. Soon, after years or so, Hajime’s going on trips on his own.

Hajime sees him a couple of times—Hajime sometimes stumbles back in shock. He’s hiding a lot more effectively by the time Hajime tries to take a second look.

“...Just imagining...” he’d usually mutter, and then he’d look around briefly before returning to his work.

Hajime is very hardworking—but Hajime hardly ever smiles even with a large catch. He sometimes lets out sighs of relief, but that’s about it. Hajime’s father never smiled either—but he didn’t think ‘never smiling’ was a trait that fitted Hajime.

He’s not sure where this presumptuous feeling came from, but he couldn’t make himself believe otherwise.

He wished he could see Hajime smile. He’s sure it’d be a nice sight. He’s almost positive that’d be the case.

It’s his own fault, then, because of this presumptuousness, because...

One day, a storm brews, and Hajime is caught up in it.

It’s terrifying. Hajime falls overboard. Hajime’s body hits the water, and he’s flailing to get out—it just makes him choke and thrash all the more painfully.

Hajime ends up losing against the water in this struggle, and he sinks, sinks, sinks.

He’s not supposed to interfere. That usually just makes it worse, but...  ** _But..._**

Drowning is such a terrible way for a human to go. It’s painful, and awful, and it’s a slow, slow process.

So, he swims after Hajime’s sinking body. By this time, Hajime is limp and doesn’t even respond to arms wrapping around his torso as he pulls Hajime upwards to breech the water’s surface.

Hajime still isn’t responsive, but all the same, he makes his way to the beach with him in tow.

Hope is a feeble thing, but it’s something he clings to nonetheless in times like this.

* * *

Hajime’s still unconscious as he lies motionlessly across the sand. He beats Hajime’s chest once. Twice.

Hajime coughs up water, groans, and he squeezes his shut eyes tighter before they blearily, dizzily, began to flutter open.

“Hajime,” he says, and repeats, much more urgently. “ _Hajime_...?”

“W-Who... Wha...?”

“Can you hear me? Hajime?” he asks, worriedly. “Ah, you...probably can’t understand me, but...”

“Y...You...” Hajime manages to cough out. “It’s you...”

_Right, I can’t understand him either._

“Hajime,” he says again, and pulls back as Hajime pushes himself up with a wince. Hajime strokes his throat, and then, with another wretched groan, his hand moves to his chest. Oh. He was hurt there, too. “I’m sorry, Hajime—I just wanted to help...”

“You...” Hajime grunts. “How do you even know my...?”

Hajime trails off, meeting his blinking, worried stare, and he just sighs.

“I... You still saved me... Was it because of what happened before...? How long have you been following me?” A pause, and he just keeps blinking, albeit with building confusion. Hajime, as though realizing, just shakes his head. “You can’t understand me either, can you? Never mind, then.”

With a bit of difficulty, he stands, legs wobbly and with a hiss between his teeth as he briefly doubles over—but he avoids collapsing all the same.

“I’ll... I’ll get going... I-I should be able to make it to a doctor or...”

Webbed fingers grip onto the edge of Hajime’s damp, salted shirt. Hajime immediately flinches, but he looks down, and meets a worried gaze.

“Hajime,” he says. “Are you sure you’ll be alright?”

“You’re worried about me?” Hajime asks with a soft sigh, and, in a surprising gesture, ruffles his white hair, careful where the wet curls inevitably stick to his fingers. “Relax, I’ll be fine. But, thanks, anyway. I guess—even if you’re not going to understand at all.”

He didn’t understand at all, but...

He couldn’t help but giggle, and beam up at him. Hajime was taken aback, but this time, he smiled in return.

And, of course, he had been right about what a nice smile it was! He’d been absolutely right!

_How wonderful!_

“Uh,” Hajime suddenly looks embarrassed, even though his bright grin had only gotten wider. But under his stare, Hajime reddened even more. “So, you know my name, but I...”

He blinked. Hajime paused, seemed to think something over, and then pointed to himself.

“Hajime. I’m Hinata Hajime.”

“Hajime,” he chirps back, not understanding the rest.

“Yeah, Hajime,” Hajime echoes, almost distantly. With a swallow, he points towards him. “You...? Who are you?”

He blinked again.

Hajime pointed back to himself. “Hajime.”

Hajime pointed at him. “You?”

_...Oh!_

“N... Nagito...?” His own name tumbled clumsily out of his mouth. How long had he’d heard it? It sounded almost alien to his ears. He repeats, trying to get a better hold of the syllables, “Nagito...”

“Nagito?” Hajime asks. He points again to himself, “Hajime.” And he points back to him. “Nagito?”

“Nagito,” he agrees with a nod. “I’m Nagito. Komaeda Nagito.”

“Alright, so you’re Nagito.” Hajime rubs at the back of his neck, and musters up another sheepish smile. “It’s...nice to meet you, Nagito.”

Nagito beams again. “It’s nice to meet you, Hajime!!”

For some reason, Hajime laughs.

“For once, it feels like we’re on the same page—or I’m imagining things... It’s not like you can understand me after all... Well...” He turns thoughtful, musing, “I should probably give you more credit than that. You seem...pretty smart, all things considered, even though you’re...inhuman.”

Nagito blinks at him.

“N-Not that being inhuman is a bad thing!!” Hajime stammers out, flustered and panicked. It was only even more confusing, especially since Hajime just went on, that, “I-I just meant!! Oh, for heaven’s sake, what am I even getting worked up over? You can’t understand me! I should... I just should just...get going...or something...”

Hajime turns away, but Nagito tugs at the edge of his shirt once more.

“Hajime? Are you leaving?” Nagito asks, tilting his head and frowning. “Will I see you again?”

Hajime stares at him, uncomprehending, and then...his stare softens. He almost looks understanding—but maybe that’s his presumptuousness again.

“I’ll... I’ll uh...” Hajime gestures around, smile strained and almost helpless. He starts speaking slower. “I’ll...come back around... Alright? L-Let’s...meet...here... Nagito.”

Those words still didn’t make much sense, but... He nodded understandingly anyway, and Hajime seemed relieved.

“Heh, I just hope you really got all that, at least,” he says, and gently pries his grip off. He gives his hand one last squeeze. “Nagito, I’ll see you. Alright?”

“Hajime.”

“Nagito,” Hajime returns, fondly and with a bit of a chuckle. “Really. Thanks for saving my life back there.”

Nagito just beams back, once again.

Hajime waves before he leaves, and Nagito’s eager to return it.

He’s happy. He’s definitely happy.

_That’s okay, right?_

* * *

Hajime visits the beach. Nagito greets him with a cheerful wave, which Hajime returns.

“So you did come after all,” Hajime says, looking down at him curiously. “Or are you just always here?”

“Hajime!” he chirps.

“Right,” Hajime replies, shrugging. “Pointless question. Uh. Hey, Nagito. It’s good to see you. I’m uh, glad you came... Nagito.”

“Hajime!”

Hajime laughs and sits before him, plopping down onto the sand and leaning in attentively.

“So...” he starts. “What should I do? Is there any way we can communicate?”

Nagito tilts his head, but repeats a third time, even more cheerfully, “Hajime!”

“Haha... Ha...” Hajime covers his face, suddenly, flushed a bright red. “God, you’re cute. Maybe it’s a good thing you don’t understand me after all...”

“Hajime,” Nagito says, and then pauses. “Ah, this must be a boring way to spend your time...”

“What was that?” Hajime asked, perking up. “Hey, Nagito? Why do you look so solemn all of a sudden?”

“Are you asking me something? Isn’t that useless for someone who can’t understand you?” Nagito’s laugh was bright, but not as before. “Hajime, aren’t you just wasting breath? That’s no good—such is precious to humans, isn’t it?”

“Urgh, I don’t get what you’re saying at all...” Hajime groaned, looking frustrated and exasperated. Nagito’s smile faded as Hajime ran tense fingers through his hair. “It can’t be anything good—but what can I do? I just don’t... I’m sorry, Nagito.”

They both were quiet for a moment, Nagito just blankly looking down as Hajime averted his stare. After a while, Hajime’s frown deepened, and he turned back to Nagito.

“Let’s try this,” he said, making Nagito perk up. He pointed to himself. “Hajime.”

He pointed to Nagito. “Nagito.”

He pointed to a nearby seashell. “Seashell.”

He jerked his thumb back towards the seaside cliff, but a little higher ways up. “Trees.”

He repeated all that as Nagito just stared at him. And then he gestured with an open hand towards him.

“Uh, now...” Hajime shook his hand a bit, like he was unsure what to do with it. “Nagito, you... Uh...”

Nagito pointed at himself. “Nagito.”

Hajime nodded. “Yes, yes.”

Nagito pointed at him. “Hajime.”

Hajime nodded again, faster with a widening grin. “Yeah! You’re getting it!”

And then, with a radiant grin, Nagito pointed at the trees. “Hajime!”

“Wait...” Hajime’s smile immediately dropped with exasperation. “Nagito, no, that’s not...”

He pointed to the seashells. “Hajime!”

The crab burrowing into the sand. “Hajime!”

The nearby rocks. “Hajime!”

“A-Are you just making fun of me?!”

Nagito laughed at him, pointing at him again. “Hajime!”

Hajime glared ineffectively back, flustered beyond belief. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“Hajime!” he chirped.

“ _Nagito_ ,” Hajime returned, warningly and sternly. Nagito just imitated him, lips pursed and cheeks puffed out.

That was just unfair, because Hajime immediately covered his mouth with a snort. And just like that, he started laughing, too.

“Aw jeez,” he groaned, good-naturedly. “At least I know you have a sense of humor.”

* * *

It wasn’t very long before another disaster struck. Really, he’d been too careless, seeing Hajime, chattering at Hajime despite neither understanding one another, laughing with Hajime, and greeting Hajime the second he had the opportunity.

But it was a good thing Hajime wasn’t hurt. Despite the scale of the wave, and the crashing impact, Hajime was far enough away that he was fine. What a relief. That’s better than before. He’s lucky Hajime wasn’t hurt this time.

“Nagito?”

_But this is still..._

“Nagito?!”

His tail was slapping feebly against a puddle of water. Everything hurt and everything seemed to be spinning with even Hajime’s voice distorting.

“NAGITO!!”

Nagito felt like he was being split open. Everywhere there seemed to be a piercing, paralyzing pain that only got worse when he tried to move.

“NAGITO, ARE YOU THERE?!”

“H... Hah...”

Funny, he can’t really tell what’s going on with anything anymore. Not with himself, not with Hajime, and not with anything else at all. It just...hurts.

“Hah... Aah...”

_It hurts..._

“H-Ha...ji...”

**_It hurtshurtshurts—_ **

“Hajime... H-Ha _ji_...!”

_Help me..._

“ _HAJIME_...!”

He’s reaching for something distant, something that looks bright when everything else looks so dark. Something that’s getting closer and closer as the pain gets worse and worse and—

Hands clasp onto that reaching hand, and they hold on tight. Somewhere, he hears his name as his fading vision gets too spotty for him to see anything. There’s a pause, a gasp, and...

“Holy shit...”

Everything goes dark and then, everything disappears.

* * *

The pain returns when he wakes. It’s a resounding ache that has him wincing and groaning and something brushes his hair back with a soft coo.

“Are..you...gi...”

It was difficult to make out the words. His fingers felt stiff and uncomfortably dry as did everything else, but—he was nestled in something soft, wrapped in a warmth that didn’t hurt like all the throbbing throughout his body.

His ears were ducked into his hair, it seemed, withered up and far too frail for him to mess with for long. When he tried opening his eyes, he nearly got a headache and whined from how it all  _hurt_.

“N-Nagito...?” Hajime’s voice was lower, and Hajime was looming over him with nothing short of panicked, horrified worry. “Nagito, can you hear me...?”

“Ha...” He reached towards him, hand pressing up against Hajime’s cheek. “Hajime...”

Hajime grasps his hand in return, nodding furiously.

“Y-Yeah... Yeah, it’s me. It’s Hajime.”

“H-Hajime... Hello... S-Sorry for earlier... Everything still hurts...?”

“Don’t push yourself,” Hajime replied sternly. He still looked so worried. Hajime almost looked like a parent. “I can’t understand what you’re saying, and you probably don’t understand either, but—Nagito, you really do need to rest.”

Hajime was pulling that strange sheet further up him. Nagito blinked down in confusion, but Hajime just tucked him in, brushing a hand over his hair affectionately, and offering a tense smile.

“Rest, Nagito.”

Hajime stilled for a moment, and there was something strange flickering over his features. There was hesitation, and then—Hajime leaned in, and pressed his warm, dry lips to Nagito’s forehead. Nagito stiffened.

Hajime muttered what must’ve been an embarrassed apology, and quickly tore himself away with burningly red cheeks.

Nagito watched him go, vision blurring when he got too far, and before he knew it, his eyelids were fluttering shut. He relaxed into the plush surroundings, the throbbing subsiding just a little, provided he didn’t squirm or swish his—

_Wait..._

There was a sharp, shooting pain as he adjusted himself, but for once, that didn’t deter him from pushing the sheet off and flinging it away with both his hand and—decidedly  _not_  his tail.

...they were legs. Pale, thin, humanlike  _legs_. There were only traces of scales molded into the new skin, which itched terribly but hurt too much to scratch, but other than that, he perhaps could’ve passed off as one of  _them_. Even his gills on his sides had closed up, leaving his breathing all the harsher and heavier.

No wonder Hajime had been so surprised earlier. He’s a bit surprised himself. He thought this trait among his kind had been filtered out generations ago. He hadn’t heard much of others making use of it, at least, and many assumed it was no longer a possibility if not at least an extremely unlikely plausibility, but...

He was lucky, as always. He would’ve died if not for this.

...The pain could flare up so bad that it still  _felt_  like he was dying, but he just had to be more careful.

_But they hurt just to move... Aside from saving my life, this trait seems pretty functionally useless_... He thought, running his finger down one of his legs, avoiding the few remaining scales.

He noticed, vaguely, that his webbing shriveled as well.

What a hideous sight.

He should be embarrassed that Hajime had to see all this. It’s not exactly an appealing image—but his normal state had been unsightly in its own regards. His mother used to weave in strings of pearl to try and compensate, but that had just been a waste.

Hajime hadn’t minded his appearance too much, supposedly—but surely he’s sickened now, at least on some level.

_Hajime..._

“Nagito? I...”

Oh, Hajime.

Hajime definitely did flinch just then at his appearance, but admirably, he didn’t drop the bottle in his grip. He just stared, hair looking spikier than usual and face red before he shook his head furiously.

“Uh, so,” he starts, walking closer and twisting the cap open. It came off with a pop. “You’re probably in a lot of pain from what just happened, so... Well, I don’t know if this would work on you, but...”

“What is that?” Nagito asked, a little unsure. “Is that medicine?”

“It’s, uh, aspirin...” Hajime had to tear his eyes from those unsightly legs, swallowing as he did. “It dulls the pain.”

Nagito’s frown deepened.

“H-Here, let me...” Hajime sat in the chair pulled up beside the bed. He poured a couple of pills into his hand. He tossed a few back inside, and offered only one to Nagito. “Here, but first let me get...”

Nagito took the pill and tossed it into his mouth, and blanched almost instantly.

“I should’ve figured,” Hajime said in exasperation, looking incredibly apologetic as Nagito beat his chest while struggling to swallow. “I’m, uh, really sorry about that, Nagito. I...should’ve given you something else...”

He’s still struggling, but he manages to wave his hand at Hajime all the same. His smile’s strains only a little.

“D-Don’t mind, don’t mind...”

“I...” Hajime says, still looking as though he very much minded, voice dragging. “I should just...”

Just as Hajime stood to leave, placing the bottle aside, Nagito gripped his wrist.

“I’m uh, fine,” Nagito reiterated, only a little bit nervous. “So you don’t have to get anything... I-I mean if you want to, I suppose I can’t...”

Hajime just stared back, but with a returning smile, he settled back in the chair. Nagito released his wrist as he did. Hajime laughed, a bit, about to say something but paused when his eyes once again flickered over those pale legs. He swallows.

 “I know they’re ugly, but you shouldn’t stare so much, Hajime...” Nagito mutters, but sighs and smiles anyway. “But it’s fine. I don’t mind if that’s just your bile fascination.”

Hajime doesn’t say anything, but he does reach out and tug the blanket back over Nagito’s bare lower half.

“...Anyway,” Hajime says, finally looking away and clearing his throat. “We, uh, really need to find a better method to communicate or...something. And we, uh, need to find you clothes, too.”

Nagito just giggles, and Hajime’s blush reaches his ears.

* * *

At some point, the pain dulled. It never went away but it dulled and he was fine with that.

But, walking was beyond difficult because the pain never failed to flare up tremendously when he put weight on his legs. His legs were probably the main source of pain—this was an unsurprising revelation.

But he didn’t really mind. Not really.

Slipping on Hajime’s clothes over his body was a bit of a hassle. Hajime had to help him, but he managed all the same. And he quite liked the end result of being surrounded by Hajime’s scent. Hajime was also kind in trying to help him walk. Hajime didn’t mind being leaned on at all, and Hajime was as warm as he was secure.

Nagito, decidedly, hated walking. It hurt too much for him to ever want to attempt on his own. But he didn’t mind Hajime’s assistance.

Hajime did want him to walk on his own, unfortunately. At least, because Hajime would sometimes gesture towards him to follow while he was standing on wobbly legs and bracing himself on the wall, he assumed Hajime wanted him to walk.

And it never took long before the pain got him crumbling to his knees, hissing and wincing.

“Nagito!” Hajime calls, worried. “Are you alright?!”

Nagito blinked up at him, and—he remembered watching human children on the beach, and he remembered their first meeting.

And Nagito reached out towards Hajime, pleading with a stuck out lower lip, “Up!”

Hajime stiffened. Hajime looked surprised.

“Up, up!”

“Of all the words you know besides my name...” Hajime starts, voice dragging. “ _That’s_  one of them? Seriously?”

“Up, Hajime!” He’s louder, almost shriller. “Hajime!”

Hajime sighs, but he gives in. His arms wrap around his undersides and back, and Nagito’s legs wrap around his waist as Nagito’s arms wrap around his neck as Hajime lifts him up. It still hurts, of course, but it’s much preferable to before, so Nagito very contently nuzzles him.

Hajime sighs, but there’s a smile in the sound. “You’re really something else.”

“Hajime, Hajime...”

* * *

His tail returns when he’s submerged in water, which Nagito learns from Hajime’s bathtub and Hajime’s pond. The transformation from tail to legs never hurts any less, but at some point he isn’t as disoriented by it as he was the first time.

He still loves the water, and though the ocean doesn’t really have anything for him, not really, he does miss it. It’s still there, of course, and he could always return whenever he wanted but—he really likes Hajime’s house, and traveling between the two would be unspeakably difficult, so he’d rather not.

He doesn’t mind that much. He’s pretty content to where he is. Hajime is very accommodating, and sometimes, Hajime does take him back to the ocean himself. Nagito had given him pearls once, and Hajime seemed incredibly embarrassed, but thankful.

It’s very nice. The pain is very much worth this pleasant way of living.

But it’d be nice if they understood one another, even though it’s not for lack of effort on Hajime’s part.

It’s just—Hajime’s language was difficult to repeat. And Hajime had difficulty trying to speak his language, too. Hajime’s pronunciation was often completely wrong and utterly displeasing to the ears.

Hajime had tried other methods of communicating. Hajime tried to teach him how to write, which he’d never done before. The symbols that also conveyed Hajime’s language were strange and confusing, and he couldn’t replicate the smooth lines and curves at all. It was a little frustrating.

But, drawing little loops and circles and jagged edges and making them look like Hajime—that was something he found a considerable amount of enjoyment in.

“Well,” Hajime had said when Nagito excitedly showed him his newest rendition of Hajime’s spiky hair and pouty frown. “At least this is something.”

* * *

Hajime wasn’t much of an artist either.

“Ah, it’s worse than mine...” Nagito notes.

“That’s a surprisingly unimpressed expression.” Hajime droned.

Nagito glanced towards him, taking in that embarrassed flush and deep, exasperated frown, and he laughed.

Hajime rolled his eyes in response, but he looked down at Nagito’s latest drawings, comparing them to his own. He just tried to draw Nagito with his tail as he remembered, but he had definitely gotten the ears all wrong and the tail looked more than a little wonky.

Nagito had drawn both of them with wobbly smiles and some birds because few animals fascinated him more. Nagito drew himself a few times before—sometimes with a tail, sometimes with legs—but, come to think of it, if he wasn’t drawing himself with Hajime... He was being drawn alone.

“Nagito, don’t you have someone worrying about you?”

_Oh, a question._

Nagito looked back at him, smiling and confused.

“Ah, right, dumb question to ask when you can’t understand... Uh...” Hajime turned back to the paper. He perked up, getting an idea, and quickly scribbled something down. Nagito peered at what he was doing in confusion—it looked as though Hajime was drawing him again.

But he was adding more people, more of  _his_  kind but lacking any individualistic characteristics.

“Oh...”

Hajime showed him the drawing, pointing to it. He looked almost determined as he was curious.

Nagito blinked back, and took the paper, staring at it silently and blankly.

“...Meeting others of my kind if probably a bad idea... They’re not exactly fond of humans—and they’re not fond of me, either.”

But was that was Hajime wanted?

For some reason, he really wondered. Then, he just shook his head with a helpless sigh, and returned the drawing.

Hajime faltered, sighing himself.

“Right,” he says, taking the paper back. “That probably doesn’t make much sense to you, either. I do wonder about your family, though. Do your parents really just let you live on your own without question like mine do? They don’t worry?”

_More questions I don’t understand._

“U-Uh...! Right, you don’t get any of that, either...” Hajime muttered, seemingly to himself. “But, if you do seem to know some words other than my name... What about...?”

Nagito tilted his head to the side.

“Uh... Mom or... Dad...?”

Nagito flinched.

“Nagito...?”

“You’re...asking about my parents...aren’t you?” The words came slowly, tensely. “My mother...and my father...”

“Uh...”

Nagito sighs heavily, and then, with a twirl of the pencil around his fingers, he took Hajime’s drawing and flipped it over to the blank side. His hand still shook as he drew, even with his features scrunched in concentration. This self-portrait was worse than the others, but... But.

He liked to think he got his mother’s hair and his father’s tail. In at least some regard, they looked recognizable even as he realized there was much he didn’t remember clearly. That was expectable. He didn’t mind that. He was just trying to get something across for Hajime.

Hajime had asked him about his parents, and he was giving an answer.

“Nagito, is that...”

Nagito held up the drawing, and his tight grip made the paper crinkle, just a bit. Nagito paid that no mind, instead pointing with the pencil at the two larger figures where his own was tucked in-between.

“Mom,” he says, replicating Hajime’s pronunciation with only a hint of a waver before moving onto the next, “Dad.”

Hajime nods. “Your mom...and dad. Your parents.”

He looked like he really did understand. Nagito put the drawing down, and, with quick jerky movements, he scribbled over both of his parents one after the other.

Hajime stared, eyes widening. He seemed to almost go pale—horrified, perhaps?

_Don’t look at that._  Nagito thinks, and he flips the paper over, back to Hajime’s drawing. Hajime had been drawing him with others—friends, maybe?  _Please don’t look at me like that._

His hand only shakes a little as he scribbles over one of the indistinct figures.

_This is just what happens._

He scribbles over another.

_I’m used to it._

And another.

_It doesn’t bother me at all anymore._

Another.

_I’m fine._

Another.

**_Really, I’m fine!_ **

Just scribbling isn’t enough.

_I’m not lonely or anything like that—_

He’s almost ripping through the paper with how he slashes through the figures now.

**_Because—_ **

The paper does, in fact, tear.

_Because I..._

He doesn’t notice at all.

**_I..._ **

He’s run out of figures. So he takes another one of drawings, and he’s about to tear through the paper all over again with removing the figure standing beside his one—but he stops, noticing the jagged squiggles meant to be hair.

_I...have Hajime..._

Nagito stares at the drawing of him and Hajime. His trembling fingers seize up before twitching in a way that the pencil slashes over the paper. His poor rendition of Hajime’s pouty frown and the wobbly, ugly smile on his self-portrait stare back at him.

_I have Hajime._

But for how long, he wondered. It was only a matter of time before another disaster happened, right? It was only a matter of time before Hajime grew tired, bored, or annoyed of him like everyone else. He didn’t mind—he didn’t really mind being lonely all that much, but...

He still doesn’t want that. He doesn’t mind—but that doesn’t mean he  _wants_  that.

He  _doesn’t_.

“...Nagito...”

Nagito flinched, but the sudden grip around his hand was gentle in how it pried the now cracked— _oh, it was cracked now_ —pencil from his fingers.  The utensil was almost carelessly tossed aside, causing to keep on rolling until it tumbled off the table’s edge. But Hajime gripped his hand with both of his own, giving it an assuring, meaningful squeeze.

Dazedly, his stare flickered towards Hajime’s expression. And Hajime met his eyes steadily with a hint of nerves and that usual serious frown. Despite that, Hajime did smile. It was only a little strained.

“Nagito, I...” He hesitated. “I know this isn’t going to mean anything because you don’t understand, but... On the off-chance you pick up on what I’m saying, I... It’s gonna be fine, yeah? I won’t—I’m not going to leave you if I have a say in any of this.”

Nagito blinks back at him, but he just goes on.

“I admit, I really don’t understand a lot about you still, but I... I do want to stay with you and...learn to understand you better with time, if I can? So... So...”

Hajime sighs, and—

“Please don’t cry.”

His eyes sting. He’s not sure why, but when he raises his other hand to rub at them, they almost feel wet. How strange. It’s really strange. He doesn’t like it.

But Hajime carefully released his hands so that he could brush Nagito’s hair back. His thumb strokes over the curve of his cheek, and swipes at the corner of his eye. The way Hajime shuffles just a bit closer to him, the way Hajime hesitates, suggests that there’s more he wants to do.

“Hajime,” he says, and gestures him closer without really thinking, beckoning, “Come here.”

Hajime’s eyes went wide for just a moment, but then he just frowns deeply again and quicker than Nagito ever expected, Hajime lurched forward, and wrapped his arms tight around him.

Hajime’s heart is pounding, and the embrace is a little stiff before Hajime moves to help their two bodies fit together better.

“Na...” Hajime is warm. He’s very warm. “Nagito... I-Is this alright? Is this okay?”

Hajime smells of the sea and of his home. It’s...nice. It’s comforting. He’s lucky to be this close.

_I don’t want anything happening to you either..._

Slowly, but surely, Nagito’s arms wrap around Hajime’s back, returning the embrace. His curious fingers run up Hajime’s spine, rubbing between his shoulder blades. Hajime shivers, but he holds onto Nagito tighter, choking out a laugh that didn’t really have anything behind it.

“Aw geez, Nagito... You really are something else.”

_I still want to stay here. That’s okay, isn’t it? Isn’t it—?_

“H...Hajime?”

The name’s come out all wobbly. His breath hitches, it hurts, but he doesn’t want to move at all and...

Hajime is sighing, rubbing comforting circles into his back and stroking his hair.

“I’m here, I’m here... I’ll stay with you, Nagito.”

It’s wishful thinking for him to understand these words. But, all the same, Nagito shakily buries his face into Hajime’s neck, taking in the smell of his sea and his warm home, and he nods against him hopefully.

Hope is a feeble thing, but it’s something he clings to nonetheless in times like this.


	2. Little Side-Story: Ficlet Request

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a short and sweet little sequel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A while back I got a request on Tumblr for a continuation and I wrote up something quick. Since I've been uploading Tumblr requests, I was going to put this in Kamu/Koma/Hina Theater but I figured it be more convenient if I tacked it onto the original fic since it's within the same universe.
> 
> I still don't have plans for a full, expansive sequel but I still hope you enjoy this. :'D

Truth be told, he hadn’t really been sleeping all that well in the first place. That Nagito often shifted around and groaned didn’t help but… He didn’t get irritated with Nagito for that. He learned to just ignore it.

But, Nagito was sitting up and he was hissing in pain, rubbing at his legs, huffing pained little whines and trembling. He couldn’t possibly ignore that.

“H-Hajime…” Nagito gasped, and then babbled out a lot string of incoherent words that could only be apologies with a face like that. Hajime only shushed him gently, and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

“C’mere,” he coaxed, reaching out towards Nagito with open arms. “Let’s go to the sea.”

Nagito perked up at ‘sea’, and he practically scrambled into his arms. Pale, scaly legs wrapped around his waist, and Nagito clung on tightly. His skin was still dry–but also soft and Hinata forced himself to ignore that as he steadied his grip on Nagito’s thighs as he stood.

It was going to be a pain just opening the door to leave the house, much less walking all the way downhill to get to the coast. But as Nagito let out a muffled whimper, and buried his face into his neck, breath cool and damp like the very air at sea, Hinata knew he’d support that light weight of his no matter what it took.

* * *

The night was cool, as expected, but watching Nagito splash around, the scales of his tale capturing glimmering moonlight, was as fascinating as it’d always been. He can’t help but think that even if Nagito hadn’t saved his life, he’d be fixated on him to this day.

Seated upon a rock, Hinata crossed his legs with a sigh, wondering as Nagito swum around.

_Why don’t you just stay here? Why do you always return home with me? Isn’t it painful to be away from the sea?_

He knew that. And he knew Nagito knew it well. Nagito smiled and laughed with ease, but even he can’t mask pain forever with Hinata never noticing. Really, he should stop being so selfish and make Nagito stay but…

He tried that once. Nagito called for him for hours. Nagito still kept waiting for him. Nagito still followed his boat. Nagito kept calling, calling, calling for him, pleading openly with his arms out, “Up, up, _up_!”

God, he couldn’t keep saying no to that. Especially when Nagito started parroting “ _no_ ” back over and over again. It was beyond infuriating. Nagito was just– _unforgivably_ cute.

“Hajime.”

Speaking of which.

Nagito was peering up at him with those wide, slitted, mossy-gray eyes, webbed hands latched onto the rock. With those fins hanging off the sides of his head, Hajime couldn’t help but think of a cat.

“If you just sit up there,” Nagito said, words flowing like the very water, each one making less sense than the last. “Your rump will hurt.”

“What’s up?” Hinata asked, feeling especially dumb.

Nagito tugged at his pants.

“Swim with me,” he said, beautiful eyes wide.

Despite that, Hinata pushed him off.

“I’m _not_ going in the water with you,” he huffed. “I almost drowned once. That’s more than good enough for me.”

Nagito, despite obviously not understanding the exact words, puffed his cheeks out in annoyance. Then he let go of the rock and splashed him.

“Hey!” Hinata shouted. “That wasn’t nice, Nagito! What even the hell?!”

Nagito resurfaced to stick his tongue out at him and just as quickly ducked back in.

“Oh my god,” Hinata groaned, running his irritated fingers through damp brown spikes, flicking off the salt. “He’s a _child_.”


End file.
